


The Burn

by SchmetterlingMaus



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alpha Mick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Bottom Leonard Snart, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt Leonard Snart, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medication, Omega Len, Protective Mick Rory, Self-Lubrication, Teamwork, Top Mick Rory, Voyeurism, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9329348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchmetterlingMaus/pseuds/SchmetterlingMaus
Summary: One-Shot : CompletedGideon exposes Len's secret to the team when he falls ill. There is one way to help Len, but the stubborn omega would rather die than to submit under an alpha.





	

Mick startled from a dead sleep. Alert, he faced the near empty room with his fists up and reflexes aching to swing. Besides Len, twisted in sleep, no one occupied the medic bay. A couple more seconds passed along with a few steady breathes and the tension slowly eased from his shoulders and lower back. His heartbeat slowed to normal. He moved from his fighting stance into a stretch, feeling the tight pull of his muscles.

“Len, you awake?” His rough voice scratched the back of his throat.

No answer.

He went over to the bed and placed the back of his hand on Len’s forehead, not sure he knew what he would learn from this. He saw Rip do it earlier when they first brought an unconscious Len into the room. Heat radiated from his partner’s skin, unusually hot for his cold nature. As if Len agreed with his analysis, he kicked at the sheet until he was no longer covered. 

“Gideon, cool the air another ten degrees,” Mick said. The damn place already felt like a meat locker. 

With no witnesses to label feelings he didn’t quite understand, he didn’t hesitate to trace Len’s nimble fingers. His fiercely independent partner would have a fit if he knew about this. Their partnership didn’t extend into anything remotely in the realm of touch. He liked this. Even enough to lace his fingers through Lenny’s and squeeze.

His stomach tightened so low in his gut that it made his cock twitch. He wanted to crawl into the small bed and pull Len tight. It’d been a strange feeling he had since they came onto the ship. Len couldn’t just be… well, Len. Mick couldn’t just walk away until the smell of his partner dissipated in the room because even the recycled air smelled wonderfully seasonable like him.

Len’s scent was everywhere on the vessel; winter mint, fresh snow, tea leaves.

And it made his mouth water. It made a spark light-up from his crotch to his heart, that he hadn’t felt since he was a hormonal teenager. But this was Len. Captain Cold. The man with an icy disposition. His crime partner. 

Only his crime partner. 

Because wanting anything else from his icy, dispassionate cohort would be inappropriate. It would change the dynamic of their alliance. It would make him care about someone and he really, really, really didn’t want to have that responsibility… Except maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if it were Len.

“Gideon, up the pain medicine,” Mick said as he traced up Len’s clothed arm. Len’s eyes were squeezed tight as he grabbed for the bottom of his shirt and shifted his weight to his side. 

“I cannot do that without Rip Hunter’s permission.” The beautifully neutral electronic voice answered. 

Mick cursed under his breath, but immediately hushed when his partner twisted around to look at him. 

The fever burned brightly in his storm cloud gray irises. His movements were tight. He held his limbs close to his body, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. It just wasn’t like Len to show he was in this much stress. “Mick, kill me.”

Mick’s breath hitched. “Never.”

Len sighed as his eyelids drifted shut. His black eyelashes fanned the crest of his check. The tension eased from his face as he fell back to sleep.

“Gideon informed me of your request. We can try wrapped ice packs underneath him and see if that will lower his fever, but you should be aware that this is a very strange sickness.” Rip walked through the open door. 

Mick swallowed the growl clawing up the back of his throat. Within seconds, the whole team squeezed into the med-bay. Despite how cold it was inside, he felt Len’s heat like a furnace.

“Is Gideon having difficulty finding an analysis? If you have any hard copies of old medical journals, I don’t mind flipping through to see what I can find.” Ray directed his question to Rip.

“It would appear by Len Snart’s elevated pulse and temperature, shift in oxytocin in his blood and drop in fluid intake that he is suffering from a problematical estrus cycle. My records show that the best way to deal with this is to introduce—“ Gideon started.

Mick’s eyes narrowed. “No. That’s impossible.”

No way in hell an omega could hide his scent twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They lived in each other’s space. There’d be behaviors and mannerisms! He thought hard. Nope! Not one thing could be traced back to Len being an omega. 

Mick glowered. The thought of bare backing Len made his blood flow south, pronto. “Shit.”

“He doesn’t smell like an omega. There aren’t suppressants alive that would mask an omega in the middle of estrus,” Ray said. Give it to the man who read all the world science magazines to add his two cents. 

“There might be a reason for that. May I?” Rip asked. 

It took a minute to realize Rip asked his permission to touch Len. It made his inner alpha thrilled that their captain recognized Len as his, but he wasn’t sure he wanted that responsibility. He gave a nonchalant shrug, but watched closely when Rip pushed his hand between the mattress and Len. His face remained neutral as he focused on his task. 

“His skin is extremely hot at the base of his spine. Help hold him at an angle,” he said. 

“Len’s not unconscious,” Mick warned. At Rip’s blank expression, he felt compelled to continue. “He doesn’t like being touched. If you do something he doesn’t like—”

“I will be diligent and quick with my analysis,” Rip promised.

Mick placed one hand on Len’s hip and the other on his upper arm and suddenly, Len’s heat felt really nice, like something he should be pressed against. He bridled his wayward alpha desires. 

Mating and claiming Len would be bad for business. Training would be a nightmare.

Sara came into the room, drawing his attention. The gorgeous alpha assassin had more mate qualities than Len. At least she allowed people to stand within three feet of her. “He must have swallowed a muscle relaxer. I can’t imagine an omega sleeping through this process.” 

Len jerked alert and off the table, colliding into Mick’s barrel chest. He barely managed to balance them both before he ended up the cushion from their combined fall.

“Mick, wha… what’s going on?” It took every ounce of self-discipline to let go when the omega yanked away from him and placed his back up against the wall.

“The reason Mr. Snart doesn’t currently smell like an omega, Mr. Palmer, is his inability to produce the proper lubricant that would also generate the scent needed to draw awareness to his status.” Rip held his fingers up for Mick to see, but openly addressed the room.

Stein, the ship peacemaker, stepped forward before anyone could speak. “Len, you’re really deficient in the alpha proteins you need to stay healthy as an omega. You need to—”

“What, Professor Stein? Tell me what I need to do?” The comment was scathing even with Len under the weather. 

“I’m not old-school in any fashion, but Gideon called it. Len needs a heavy dose of semen supplements—” Jax started.

“Excuse me,” Len drawled, once again successfully gaining the rooms attention. “This goes without saying, but listen anyways; I won’t let an alpha mount me.”

“Given your recently poor decision to go untreated, I feel it is only right that you are assigned treatment until your hormone levels even out,” Rip said, with genuine concern. “You would be the best choice to do this, Mick,”

Mick glanced at Len, braced for a fight. Living in close proximity worked, because they didn’t get into each other’s business. “Our joint venture ain’t like that.”

Fuck! Len was an omega. A feisty, foul-mouthed omega in heat. A very large, feral part of him liked that.

“I’ll do it.” Jax moved farther into the room, with confidence brought on by youth, and postured himself. The rooster strut wouldn’t win Len. 

“Most certainly not, Jefferson. Len might be an omega, but he’ll break you like a twig. He needs someone who…” Stein trailed off as he glanced at Len then back at Mick. “Who will do anything to win.”

Snart sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “You underestimate my skills, professor.”

Mick felt as annoyed as Snart. 

“If Mick is unwilling to do this, I will.” Ray offered. His nimble fingers came up to the collar of his shirt and pressed the first button loose from its hole.

Mick snapped. He crossed the room in a few strides. Rip, Jax and Sara were suddenly in his space, grabbing him an in attempt to slow his movement. Stein and Kendra used their bodies to block the space. Hair-Cut confidently stood his ground and started with a second button. 

“I don’t want this to be a fight, but you heard Gideon. Snart is sick and this is the quickest solution,” Ray said.

“This is the quickest way,” Stein agreed and somewhere in the back of his head, he heard Jax mumbling how unfair it was that no one considered him. 

Mick stopped moving and glanced at the youngest alpha on the ship. The football player immediately jerked back with his hands to his side. When Mick glanced back at Ray, the alpha shrugged out of his shirt. His black tank top hugged a strong body, but he wasn’t built for the real hard knocks, like Mick was. Mick chuckled.  
Ray’s brows rose with suspicion. “What?” 

Mick shook his head and stepped back. Though the others let him go, they remained close, not trusting the situation. The small room started to smell like the group, overpowering Len’s very mild scent. “I’m picturing what you’ll look like after Lenny is finished wiping the floor with your face.”

“Captain Hunter, would you like me to administer OM3-Alpha386 semen grade 9467211 to Mr. Snart?” Gideon asked.

“What is OM3-Alpha386?” Kendra inquired first.

Mick kept his eyes on everyone, which was in itself, confusing. He wasn’t Len’s keeper. But that was before he realized Len was an omega. He glanced back at said omega, to find that Len looked even more miserable as he used the wall for support. He didn’t leave his station though. Maybe he felt safe right there.

“It helps lower the inhibition. The drug was specialized for traumatized omegas who wouldn’t allow the institution to help them through their heats.” Rip pressed his lips together in thought. “I guess we might be in that situation.”

“You think I’m traumatized because I have no interest in getting pawed?” Len’s short, barked laughter was bitter and resentful.

“I don’t think you realize how sick you are, Mr. Snart.” Rip said. 

Mick growled low, not liking the fact that now anyone in the room could potentially get that much closer to Len, to have uninterrupted time with him; to feel how hot his skin currently was. 

“Nothing that can’t be handled.” Len’s eyes narrowed. The omega remained guarded and resentful.

The argument grew repetitive. Mick whispered to the ‘god of the damned’ for luck and pulled his shirt over his head. The chilly air hit his skin with a vengeance, making his nerves ache. Len’s eyes widened.

The omega readjusted his stance and subconsciously bit his bottom lip. Nerves or was he actually interested. “I will knock your teeth out.”

Mick huffed in doubt. The medical bay lacked the comforts of his personal space. It wasn’t an ideal location to claim his omega. His omega? Yeah, that had a nice ring. 

“You will regret this,” Len said. Despite the fever that made his eyes glisten, his glare remained cold and calculating.

“No, I won’t, Lenny.” And he meant it. The confession should’ve surprised him. It didn’t.

The omega’s pupils widened and his breath hitched. His chin tilted upward with defiance. “Don’t let them make this decision for you.”

Mick kicked off his shoes and played with the thick metal latch on his buckle. “This is a serious health issue, boss. Take the OM3-Alpha whatever the fuck the number is.”

“Careful, Mick. Don’t think you meant to give me a direct order,” Len hissed. 

Movement behind Mick drew his attention. The family of misfits remained at hand. Stein quickly caught on that their presence wasn’t warranted. He grabbed Jax and Palmer by the shoulder and lead them through the doorway.

Mick’s attention fell on Rip, Sara and Kendra. “Are you staying?”

“Someone needs to make sure the two feral creatures on my ship don’t tear each other apart,” Rip said. He started to roll his sleeves up like a doctor expecting a messy operation. Sara and Kendra didn’t move from their spot blocking the door. 

“Maybe we should save ourselves some hardship and administer the medicine now?” Sara asked. 

“That would be a good assessment,” Rip agreed. Mick’s eyes flickered back to Len who leaned against the wall looking as casual as his body in heat would allow. 

There was no humor behind his smirk. He licked his lips, angry, sweaty and flushed. “Administer them at your own risk.”

“Captain, would you like me to call the rest of the crew to assist in subduing Mr. Snart?” Gideon asked. Her neutral voice was an affront to their situation. 

“No,” Mick and Len responded at the same time. Mick locked eyes with Len, knowing that his boss would make this chaotic.

Despite the room being cold, sweat coated Mick’s skin. His stomach rolled, impatiently. His rock hard cock could carve glass. The base of his shaft throbbed at the promise of knotting Len. “Get the drug. I don’t want Len hurting himself.”

“You’re a traitor,” Len hissed. His eyes narrowed. He was thoroughly pissed and oh-so breathless with his heat. His hand slid to his lower stomach for a second before dropping back to his side. 

Mick growled. “It’s about survival. I’m calling the shots on this one, boss.”

Len’s eyes flickered down to Mick’s crotch and pink bloomed against his cheeks when he quickly looked back over to the rest of the team. A thrill passed through Mick. Len, the omega he’d gladly bind himself too, had, for a second, considered the mating if the blush was anything to go by.

Rip crossed to the cabinets and small fridge. “This is for your own good Mr. Snart. No one on this ship will allow you to die from something so easily treatable, nor will we allow you to hurt yourself in the process.” 

Mick didn’t dare take his eyes off his partner. Len’s attention flicked over to the girls guarding the door. Even if he wasn’t under duress from his heat and could actually fight them, there was nowhere for the omega to go. The same thought crossed Len’s face because his brows twitched, clearly annoyed.

“I’m against this.” Len shifted his weight, taking a step towards the corner, but stopped himself. His eyes darted around the room.

Mick knew what his omega looked for; a weapon. “I’m against you dying, boss.”

Rip came to Mick’s side with the syringe and the strong bloom of rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball. “The medicine is heavy and needs to be admitted in a thick muscle, preferably his buttocks.”

Len huffed. “You’re calling this a medical procedure?”

“Biology sucks,” Mick growled. He meant what he said. They’d been associates in crime far too long not to have formed a bond from it. More so, he wasn’t going to lose the one person that meant the world to him. He would deal with the fallout once Len’s body healed.

Len kicked away from the wall. Mick didn’t give him a chance to get into a fighting stance before he closed the space between them. Len threw a punch and if it wasn’t for his heat haze, his fist would’ve connected. Mick caught his wrist and drew him around, slipping his arm around the omega’s lean waist and forced him towards the bed, jerking and growling. Until now, he always assumed Len was a beta with alpha tendencies.

“Don’t do this Mick.” Len’s tone turned desperate. So did his attempt at escaping.

“Ain’t goin’ to let you die boss,” he rumbled against Len’s ear as he caught the omega’s wrist and forced it behind his back with the other one. His best friend jerked so hard, he was forced to let him go, in fear he’d pull the omega’s shoulder from his socket. It became painfully clear Len didn’t care what damage he caused to himself as long as he got out of the situation.

“We need assistance,” Rip ordered, keeping the syringe up and ready. The girls rushed over to the bed adding to the chaos of limbs that tried to subdue Captain Cold.

“I have never seen an omega this determined to die. Gideon, tell the others to come back.”

“Doesn’t have to be like this.” Mick wanted to use his tongue to show his feisty, foul tempered omega all the things he promised. He glanced up at Stein as the professor, Jefferson and Ray came to the bed. It was enough weight to keep Len immobile, but the fire that sparked in the omega’s gray eyes said he wasn’t giving up.

“Give me your shirt, Mick,” Sara ordered. 

He growled at Ray in warning before physically separating himself from Len. His skin buzzed. His crotch ached to have Len’s legs wrapped around his hips as he rode the leaner man. He bent down to pick up his shirt; aware of how solid his cock now was, brushing against the fabric of his pants.

He tossed his shirt to Sara and watched as she folded it so that the light cotton fabric bunched, then held it close to Len’s face without suffocating him. Len jerked back, desperate to get lose. Sara adamantly followed his movements and forced him to take in the scent. Within a couple breathes, Len’s thrashing slowed and his eyes started to drift shut. His breathing calmed and his body went passive. 

The girls, with Stein’s help, managed to pull Len’s arms free from his long sleeve shirt and then his undershirt. He had the sculpted form of a runner. His pink, pearl colored nipples immediately hardened to the air, tightening upward begging to be suckled. His chest was hairless, and he lacked a dark trail of hair under the belly button that lead to a man’s crotch. Len shifted under their collected gaze and started to claw his way out of the haze he fell under.

“Gentlemen,” Rip’s voice stirred them back into action. 

He gripped Len’s belt, unlatched it, popped the buttons on his pants and hooked his thumbs into both the pants and boxers, managing to pull Len’s pants down over the curve of his ass. The omega’s searing warmth immediately drew him in. He leaned in, kissing Len’s skin under his belly button. The thick, unfiltered aroma of pheromones radiated from his beautiful pelvis. His penis wasn’t entirely a tiny peg of a thing that he’d seen on male omegas. Lenny’s was a little smaller than average for a beta. His taut skin had blue veins pressing against his flesh and jutted upward for a hungry alpha mouth. 

And damn! Mick was starving!

“Jesus, Lenny,” Mick growled, enamored with the beauty of Len exposed to him. The omega kept his dark pubic hair trimmed. The strands were short enough to look soft, not wiry and thick like Mick’s bush. 

“We really should move this along Mr. Rory,” Rip said. Len shifted, managing to fight the effects of the alpha pheromones in Mick’s shirt.

“Sara, stop!” Len growled, finally spurred into movement, breaking away from Stein and Kendra to push at Sara’s hand and kick out at Mick. Mick caught his ankle and he kicked with the other one. It was a mess of arms and limbs as everyone tried to pacify the sick omega.

Sara played her fingers over Len’s scalp. Her low voice stayed reassuring. “Slow breathes, omega. Nice, slow breathes. Take in the scent of your alpha. He won’t let anything happen to you. Trust in Mick.”

Len pulled his legs up, pressing his knees together, making it difficult for Mick to slide his pants completely off his legs. Ray was suddenly there, helping unlatch the omega’s ankles. Together, they got him completely bare. What he didn’t expect was another hard kick, this time connecting with his shoulder and throwing him off balance. 

He never backed down from a fight, but this wasn’t a typical battle. The stakes changed. Lenny was an omega… a very sick omega that wasn’t used to being touched. It appeared as though the omega was determined to keep it that way.

“Dammit, Lenny! This is for your own good,” Mick growled. He laid his whole weight in on the omega, so suddenly, that the smaller man huffed out in surprise. 

“Fuck you, Mick! You fucking traitor!” Lenny hardly ever cussed. The omega trembled under him. Scared? Needy? It was difficult to distinguish either.

With one hand at Len’s hip, he managed to turn the omega enough for Rip to clean him with the cotton ball and puncture his skin with the syringe. His desire to protect slammed into him ten-fold when his omega went tense in his arms, burying his face against the muscular curve of his shoulder.

Len panicked. “No. No. No…”

“Breathe omega.” Sara kept her voice soft, almost songlike. Even Kendra gently stroked at Len’s collarbone and down the curve of his arm.

The omega went still, but the tension in the room didn’t ease. Mick let go of his omega long enough to kick off his shoes and the rest of his clothes. His thick shaft jutted upward, deep purple veins carved lines along his skin. He gave it a lazy tug, then reached below to squeeze at his heavy sac.

Mick moved back to his place at the edge of the bed, catching Len’s ankles. With help from Ray, and Jefferson, he managed to coax Len into opening his long legs so he could slot himself between them. Their cocks now brushed as Mick thoroughly found his footing at the side of the bed.

He wanted to suck at Len’s neck, collarbone and fucking delicious nips. He wanted to dip his tongue into the omega’s belly button, his cock slit and his puckered hole. His hands trailed over Len’s thighs to his shaft, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a nice little tug before cupping Len’s balls and squeezing. He gently tugged on his nut sac within the pouch of skin, wanting to suck on them too.

Rip pressed two fingers against Len’s wrist, and then nodded to himself. “He should be willing now. I’d like to think the difficult part is over, but with Mr. Snart, his determination is undeniable.”

The omega kept his hands balled. His breathing went shallow. He wasn’t fighting anymore. His chin tilted back, exposing a great deal of his swanlike neck. He caught Len under his knees and gently drew him onto his stomach. 

“Fuck Lenny, look so good. Go’in to knot you.” Mick rubbed circles into Len’s warm thighs. His movement gently pulled the omega’s firm buttocks apart, exposing his hairless pucker. God, he could eat that hole for days.

“Mick,” Len whined, as if he heard that thought. 

In answer to his omega, he rubbed his fingers over Len’s tailbone and up his beautiful spine. He drew his fingers back down and along Len’s crack. The omega buried his face in his arms and cried into the sheets. He adjusted his body, pushing at nothing with his ass as he gave silent orders. 

Mick chuckled. “Okay, Len. Ain’t been good at tellin’ you no.”

Rip handed him a small bottle filled with a clear water-based slick substitute. He coated his fingers and parted Len’s cheeks again to draw small circles around Len’s winking hole. He stuck the tip of his finger into him, and Len hissed. His entrance remained too tight, even in the omega heat, to fully penetrate. 

“They don’t need witnesses,” Stein said, grabbing Jefferson and indicating others should follow. The team was reluctant to leave, but they did until only Rip and Sara remained. 

“Lenny’s not into voyeurism,” Mick said, dipping his finger a little deeper. Len groaned. The omega’s knuckles turned white as he fisted the sheets covering the vinyl medical bed.

“We’re being precautionary,” Sara said. 

It was bad enough that both alphas remained so close. He’d be at a fighting disadvantage once he was locked inside his omega partner. He wouldn’t be able to protect either of them.

Len’s soft, barely-there moan drew his attention away from the alphas. He moved his finger in and out until the muscles stopped fighting his effort, then he slid the next finger in. Every movement of his finger opened the room to more of the omega’s pheromones. With his free hand, he rubbed circles on Len’s thigh. 

His entrance glistened with more slick than he’d poured on his fingers. Maybe Len’s body would adjust after all. 

“Mmm… such a good omega,” Mick said. Something about Len panting under him really spurred him to want to talk to his omega. His… he liked the sound of that. 

Len couldn’t form words, but he made sounds as he shoved himself back against Mick’s fingers. His body’s heat engulfed Mick, making Mick rumble with unconstrained pleasure. He slid his fingers out and Len jerked back, nearly falling off the bed in order to keep contact.

“Shhh. Len, be still,” he ordered, lubing his thickness with the extra slick on his fingers. He stroked himself a few times, though he was rock solid and ready to penetrate. 

He drew Len’s legs over the side of the bed until the omega stood on his tiptoes with his pelvis pressed against the mattress. Len had dragged the sheets with him, wrapped around his balled fists. Mick placed a kiss on Len’s shoulder than pressed his tongue flat against his skin. He really wanted to push his tongue against every part of Len, but the omega’s fever kept him focused.

“Mick! God, please, Mick, please!” 

Never in his life had he thought his name could sound sexier than the way Len cried it out into the room. He chuckled low in his chest and spoke even lower, meant for Len, though the other alphas would hear. “Hungry for my knot, boss?”

“Fuck! Fuck!” Len growled at the bed sheets. 

He pushed into him, inch by agonizingly slow inch. The tense heat and tightness stole his breath. It was literarily like dancing within the confines of a fire. And to hold Len so close, to be such a huge part of the change in their dynamic; he wanted nothing more than to show the world what he gained.

When he bottomed out, it was Len that started moving, or tried to despite being so thoroughly shoved against the bed. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in until Len warmed to the movements and started to use the strength in his body to shove back, hard. This behavior was very distinctly Len; take charge.

Len stretched his arms over his head to grip the other side of the bed. The action made his back muscles press against his alabaster skin like a stretching cat. Every heist and personal affairs gone wrong played out as a map of puckered scar tissue. Len purred under him, canting his hips back and nonverbal begging for him to pick up speed. 

Mick pulled out long enough to readjust their bodies’ long ways on the bed; easy for both of them once he knotted. It wouldn’t be long now. The pressure at the base of cock tightened, making his half-inflated knot catch at the omega’s rim. 

This wasn’t about love. It wasn’t really about knotting his best friend. It was about giving Len substantial amounts of sperm to kick his omega body back into health. He had to remember this. He had to keep from claiming him no matter how insane the aspiration became.

“Len!” He dropped his weight forward and boxing the leaner man underneath him. His hips rutted hard; his heavy balls slapped flesh. The desire burned in his stomach. 

He pulled back again and his knot yanked successfully at Len’s tight rim muscles. The physical response to being latched was instant. The very feel of Len’s body convulsing under his, the way his muscles tightened around his knot, spiked the hardest orgasm he’s had since hitting puberty. 

“Please! Have to feel your teeth,” Len begged, shoving so hard back, that he almost knocked Mick off balance.

He pushed his dick so far within Len that he mentally pictured it hitting Len’s uterus and making a baby with their combined DNA. He licked and sucked on Len’s skin, taking in the scent of his feverish omega, at the junction between shoulder and neck.

His heart beat quickened. Len was his mate. He knew without a doubt that there wouldn’t be another omega he could love more. He brushed his teeth against skin, playful at first when another mini-gasm hit, rocking his hips in shallow movements to play at his caught knot. 

Claim! Mark the omega. Make this permanent. Fuck Len during estrus and out of it! God, to make this perfect, frigid beast his own.

Hands on his forehead yanked him away from Len’s neck and thick leather shoved between his teeth kept him from biting down. The strap tightened against his cheeks as it was buckled. He reached back to unlatch the bite-guard, but strong hands shoved his shoulders and chest down against Len’s lithe back. 

“Calm down, alpha, rest with your omega. You did a good job protecting him,” Sara encouraged obedience. 

The psychology she whispered into his ear was a joke, something that the norms of society couldn’t fix with his type of dysfunction… So why did he murmur in response, feeling sated and happy with himself and pleased with the kudos Sara gave him? 

“Strong alpha. Protective alpha,” Sara kept whispering. 

It wasn’t her hands on his back, though he stopped trying to reach for the band. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Len. His new lover shivered again. His omega would be pissed when he woke up. Len wasn’t naturally submissive. 

Even at the end of this, if Len didn’t want to be mated, he would still consider himself Len’s alpha. He would follow him to the ends of the earth.


End file.
